


Two Voices

by PetLeopard56, Slasherfem



Category: The Young Pope (TV)
Genre: Crossover Young Pope and House, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-15 10:25:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11229027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PetLeopard56/pseuds/PetLeopard56, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slasherfem/pseuds/Slasherfem
Summary: This is about the events that transpired after Lenny Belardo (aka Pope Pius XIII) collapsed at the Basilica San Marco.





	Two Voices

The Young Pope

Chapter 11- Two Voices

Rating: TV-MA (Not intended for readers under the age of 18)

Premise: This story continues after the last chapter (10) of “The Young Pope”. Since it is a cross-over, it also takes place after the last episode of season 8 of “House.”

The Vatican Hospital Medical Center

Pope Pious XIII opened his eyes. He stared around him. He noticed the smiles of relief. His good friends Voiello, Gonzago and Sister Mary rejoiced.

Voiello prayed in Italian, Gonzago said a quick Our Father and turned his head to hide his tears of joy. Sister Mary tightened her grip on his hand and said, “Thank God, you’re all right, Lenny.”

“Mom.” Lenny said, with a quick wink. “What happened? The last thing I remember, I was just finishing a speech and was trying to encourage the people to find some joy in their lives by smiling. The crowd seemed to like what I was saying, I guess. Then everything went fuzzy and I just blacked out. The next thing I remember, I woke up here.”

Sister Mary was about to speak when Voiello cut in. He spoke in heavily accented English. “Your Holiness, God the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit be praised! Is it not time for a rosary in demonstration of our thankfulness?”

Lenny rolled his eyes. “You’re right, Voiello. It is not time for a rosary in demonstration of our thankfulness. Hey, where’s my cigarette and Cherry Coke Zero?”

Gonzago came forward, politely stepping between Sister Mary and Voiello. He bowed respectfully. “Your Holiness, there was a doctor, a very fine and talented specialist, who was at the Vatican Hall for your speech. If he had not been there at the time of your seizure, you might have, Heaven forbid, been taken from us. You had suffered a condition which I cannot remember or pronounce. You were choking, and the doctor had to cut through your throat, so that you could breathe. When you were brought here, that saintly doctor presided over the surgery, and for now, you are okay, praise God.”

Lenny sighed. “That still does not answer my question, Gonzago! Where are my cigarettes and my Diet Cherry Coke?”

Sister Mary answered politely. “Your Holiness, the Auxiliary Physicians said that you are not allowed to smoke or drink carbonated beverages until your throat heals.”

Lenny growled. “I don’t care about the second bananas here. What about the miracle doctor who saved my life? Can he give me one good reason why I can’t have my Diet Cherry Coke and my cigarettes?” 

Gonzago took Lenny’s other hand and paused before speaking. “Your Holiness, the saintly physician who saved your life was not able to stay. He said that he had more pressing matters to attend to.”

Lenny’s face reddened. “More pressing matters? More pressing matters than attending to the World Leader of the Christian community, and explain what exactly happened to me, and why my healing does not entail indulging in the two favorite things in my life?!”

Voiello handed him an envelope with a piece of paper inside. “Your Holiness, the saintly doctor did leave a letter for you. He requested that I give it to you when you feel better.” Outside on the envelope were printed the words:

WHAT HAVE WE FORGOTTEN?

Lenny’s face reddened as he read the outside of the envelope. Before he could respond, Voiello leaned closer to the Pope and whispered, “Your Holiness, shall I open the envelope for you and read the letter?”

Lenny shook his head vigorously. “No! No! And No! The three of you give me some space. I would like to read this privately to myself.”

They quickly obeyed and Lenny used his limited strength and shaky hands to tear open the envelope. He removed a single sheet of paper and read the words to himself; his eyes widened. Then he quickly put the letter back in the envelope and held it tightly.

Sister Mary ran over to him. “Lenny, you seem upset. Did the saintly doctor write something that made you angry?”

Lenny laughed. “No. No, Sister Mary, on the contrary, actually. But don’t ask me to explain. Listen carefully. I need to seal up this envelope and put it in the Vatican safe. Do not read it and do not under any circumstances show it to anybody. Do I make myself clear?”

Sister Mary nodded. “Yes, your Holiness. “ She made a quick bow, kissed his ring, carefully took the letter from him and quietly left the room.

Lenny then turned to Gonzago. “Cardinal Gonzago, I need you to do whatever it takes. Spare no expense. Leave no stone unturned. But you need to find this saintly doctor and bring him back here to me, now!”

Gonzago bent to kiss the Pope’s ring, when a loud, sarcastic voice came from across the room. “Hey Belardo, I didn’t say that ring kissing was allowed!”

They all turned in the direction of the annoying voice. The stranger was a man in a wrinkled suit, with messy, uncombed hair, a scraggly beard, and a rough voice. There was a black arm band on the left side of his jacket. He walked limping heavily on a cane. As he walked into the room, he took a small vial out of his pocket and popped two pills into his mouth. Then he turned to the four who were staring at him. “What are you guys staring at? I would think that in your profession, given all the pedophiles, sissy boys and closet queens that you deal with every day, someone like me wouldn’t even register on your Gay-Dar.” He turned to Sister Mary, who had just returned. “No offense, Sister. By the way, for the record, I’ve been a very naughty boy. Feel free to punish me in any way you wish.” He gave her a quick wink.

Gonzago was the first to speak. “Oh, Merciful Creator. Our prayers have been answered. The miracle doctor has arrived!”

Sister Mary and Voiello bowed their heads respectfully.

Lenny laughed hysterically. “This is the miracle doctor? The Lord does work in mysterious ways. This goes above and beyond all that I’ve ever seen.”

The strange doctor growled. “Who were you expecting, Marcus Welby? Sorry to disappoint you, Belardo.”

Lenny laughed and shook his head. “I guess it’s to be expected. Sister Mary, Gonzago, Voiello, leave us for now. I will have a private audience with the good doctor.”

Sister Mary, Gonzago, and Voiello bowed respectfully and left the room. It was only Gonzago, though, who remembered to shut the door behind them.

Lenny turned to the doctor, who took a seat at the patient’s bedside. “So, what should I call you?”

The doctor wrinkled his brow. “Well, since I started practicing, I’ve been called many names, none of which is appropriate to repeat in the presence of Your Holiness.”

Lenny laughed. “Sense of humor. Sarcasm. Perfect. Just perfect. A man after my own heart. But don’t push it, okay? I ask the questions. You give the answers. What is your name, doctor? That’s the first question. And the second question is, where the heck are my cigarettes and Diet Cherry Coke?”

The doctor sighed and paused before speaking, as though those were difficult questions that he was being posed with. “Just call me Greg, okay? I can’t give you my last name because I am on the run from the law now and have been for the past five years. Actually, that’s not entirely true. On the books of the Unites States registry, I am persona non grata. I don’t exist. I’m dead. And as far as the much more important issues, which deals with your cigarettes and Diet Cherry Coke, we will get to that. But first we need to go through some boring, diagnostic stuff, after which it will be your choice as to whether you still want them or not. Me personally, I wouldn’t recommend it.”

Lenny pursed his lips. “Let’s get to that boring diagnostic stuff later, Greg. You caught my interest. I want to know more about you. Actually, you’re the most interesting thing that’s come to the Vatican since the kangaroo.”

Greg raised his eyes. “Kangaroo?”

Lenny nodded sadly. “He died two weeks ago. Sad, really. I had him for about ¾ of a year and was just about to give him a name.”

Greg got up and supported himself on his cane. He looked directly at Lenny. “Why did it take you so long to decide to give him a name?”

Lenny sat up in bed to face the doctor. “I was sort of afraid of getting too attached to him. You see, I guess it could be said that I have abandonment issues.”

Greg paced around the room and looked out the window. He mumbled the words, “Join the club,” to no one in particular. Then he looked up at Lenny and walked two steps closer to him. “I lost my best friend eight months ago, hence the black armband.”

Lenny turned to support himself on his pillow. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Greg once again sat down on the chair near the bed side. “I read your biography. You talked about your parents. Major bummer.”

Lenny nodded slowly. “I thought that I saw them in the crowd on the day of my last speech. I could have sworn that they were there to see me. I don’t know whether the hallucinations were starting in. But they soon left, just before I got to the main point of my speech. Regardless, I’d like to think that what I was seeing was real and that they were really there, if for just a short time. What do you think?”

Greg scratched his chin. “It’s really hard to say, Belardo. I’m not a shrink, but I could say that the subconscious could really be a crappy place to hang your hat. To put it simply, you had those issues festering in your brain ever since you were a little kid. It’s sometimes hard to negotiate reality when your life is in the middle of a crisis. Does it matter that much to you, anyway, even if they were really there?”

Lenny sighed. “They’re my parents. What do you think?”

Greg shook his head. “The way that I see it, they’re two people who fucked around, made a baby and then abandoned him to be raised by a nun. If you ask me, she’s more of a parent than either of those hippies that you’re so fond of. Oh, by the way, please excuse my language for the aforementioned expletive, Your Holiness.”

Lenny laughed. “Oh, please! It’s refreshing to hear, actually. If you’ve been here for almost a year and all day long you hear ‘Your Holiness’ this and ‘Your Holiness’ that, it sort of gets to you after awhile. A good barrage of healthy cursing is probably good for the soul at some point.”

Greg picked up a bottle of water on the patient’s table and without asking permission appropriated it for himself, opening the tab and pointing the bottle to Lenny in mock respect. “Cheers.” He took a gulp and then continued. “When I was growing up, cursing in the house was not only restricted, but dangerous. My father made me spend the evening in the garage the first time that I said something that he disagreed with. You could imagine what he would have done if he heard me drop an ‘F’ bomb. He was one of those regular army guys. Shape up or Shit out--Excuse me, Your Holiness, Freudian Slip--Ship out. The type that had no tolerance for raising another man’s comeuppance, for lack of a better word. He never said it quite that way, but that’s the way that he felt. And my mother was no better. She chirped around like a little bird, letting the old man do whatever he wanted to me. So, don’t talk to me about parents.” He took another gulp of water.

Lenny nodded. “So you never got to know your real Dad?”

Greg shrugged. “I have suspicions. I’m afraid that’s all that they are. My Mom would never give a straight answer. I’m not sure that she even knows herself.”

Lenny looked Greg over carefully. “I see that you have problems with your leg, and judging by the fact that you dry swallowed those two pills as if they were candy, it would be a fair assumption to say that you were addicted to pain killers.”

Greg laughed sarcastically. “Oh, my goodness! Did Jesus come down and talk to you about me?”

Lenny shook his head and paused teasingly, taking more time than what he needed to answer the question. “Not exactly, Greg. You see, when I had just become a bishop, my mentor Cardinal Spencer introduced me to this young kid about fifteen back then, who was rumored to be a faith healer. Cardinal Spencer wanted to test my judgment to ascertain whether the kid was the real thing or not. So we talked for a couple of hours. And I asked him as a matter of course if he had ever had a crisis of faith himself. Then he revealed to me his own experience of what happened when he was touring with his father, preaching to a congregation in South Jersey. He had fallen sick--fainting spells, dizziness, unconsciousness, and then he told me about you. You diagnosed him and saved his life. He told me everything that I need to know about you. Heck, I thought that he was exaggerating, but seeing you right here in front of me, he was right on target.”

Greg wrinkled his brow, in a gesture of interest. “Yes, I remember that case. It was a puzzle that seemed to have no solution. For a while, I was starting to question, well you know… So, what was the verdict? Was he or wasn’t he the real thing?”

Lenny shook his head. “No, which saddened me, actually. I was so looking forward to conversing with a kindred soul.”

Greg nodded slowly. “So, I heard that in your time, you worked some miracles yourself. In your bio, your talked about your first so-called miracle: Curing the gardener’s wife, who was terminally ill. What’s the scoop on that?”

Lenny shrugged. “Damned if I know. I’m like everybody else, living from moment to moment. I can’t even remember the whole experience. The best way to describe it was a feeling of power. I somehow knew that if I asked God to cure this woman that he would do it. And it just happened in that way. I got a similar feeling when I was confronted by a wife from an infertile couple. More than anything else, she wanted to get pregnant. I felt the power. I knew that God would listen. And he did. She conceived, gave birth and named the baby after me.”

Greg nodded. “Interesting. Tell me something, Belardo. Granting the truth of your assertion, which I don’t fully admit to, but for argument’s sake, if it were true, have you ever used this power in ways that you have come to regret?”

Lenny folded his hands and pursed his lips. “My last so-called miracle. There was this nun who was the leader of her community in a village near the African border. There was a problem with tainted water. People were getting sick. Some were dying. This Sister was using the problem as an opportunity to magnify herself in the community. She took it upon herself to hoard the bottles of clean water. So everybody had to come to her to get the untainted water, which gave her many opportunities to solicit certain bodily favors from some of the younger sisters in her parish. So I took it upon myself to rid the community of her unholy presence. She died that very night that I prayed.”

Greg shrugged. “Certainly a weighty burden to carry around. I mean for someone in your business-- the whole saving souls thing.”

Lenny shook his head. “That’s the strange thing, really. I don’t feel guilty. Believe me, I’ve tried. I know that somewhere along the way, there’s something that I need to atone for. Something that I need to confess. Some type of penance that I need to do. But I searched deep within myself and came up with nothing. I don’t know, do you think that I’m some type of monster or something?”

Greg laughed. “You’re asking the wrong guy, Belardo. Some of the things that I’ve done in my line of work, by what other people say, I mean, were downright shameful, cruel, unnecessary, even by some standards psychopathic. Yet if I had to do it over…”

Lenny threw a rolled up piece of paper at him that hit him squarely on the forehead. “Shut up, you heathen.” He laughed. “I know how that sentence ends.”

Greg stared straight ahead. “So, we understand each other, then.”

Lenny sat himself up on the bed pillows. He spoke in a sarcastic tone. “Listen, I’ll make a deal with you, my son. Get me a Diet Cherry Coke and a cigarette and all those other things that you didn’t tell me, and I’ll grant you full absolution. Sound good?”

Greg got up and paced the room. He didn’t say anything, just looked out the window. Lenny watched him carefully, with a worried expression. “What? There’s something that you’re not telling me.”

Greg walked over to him and looked at him seriously. “Belardo, you need to know something. Good news and bad news, actually. Glass half full version: your body is displaying some type of reaction that is somehow affecting your brain. The cause: the mixture of caffeine and tobacco. It’s putting you on some type of chemical high. The euphoric reaction is creating what you consider to be some other worldly abilities. In some way, which even I don’t understand, power is contagious. Somehow, other people are picking up on what you’re giving to them. They believe you have some type of power and therefore it is true--true for them, anyway.”

Lenny shook his head playfully. “So, what’s the good news?”

Greg laughed. “You surprise me, Belardo. You remind me of Wilson. He was the only person who was the closest thing to a friend to me. Unfortunately, to flip the coin to the other side: the same way that your sensitivity to the mixture of caffeine and tobacco seems to be speeding up your thought processes and altering your perceptions, it is also killing you, and not so slowly either. There is a rare condition that some people exhibit. When two chemicals mix together, whether harmful or not in their own right, in some cases the body converts it to a poison. Through years of absorbing the same toxic mixture over and over, day by day, it has caused the reaction that you experienced a few days ago. At this point, we caught it just in time. You stop with your two favorite diversions, take up another hobby, like sex or something, you’ll be doing just fine. Continue with your daily Cola Smokers, and you’ll be dead in six months. There really shouldn’t be a choice here, if you ask me.”

Lenny paused before speaking. “You know, Greg, you’d be a damned liar if you could look me in the eye and say that you’re being completely honest with me. We’re both not talking about the five hundred pound elephant in the room.”

Greg wiggled his eyebrows like Groucho Marx and whispered to Lenny. “You mean Voiello’s girlfriend, the Venus of Willendorf?”

They both shared a laugh.

Lenny’s expression turned serious. “I wish that was the only issue that we had to resolve. But sadly not. I need to know, Greg, what will happen to my special abilities should I….should I completely stop my daily Cola Smokers?”

Greg pursed his lips. “I almost wished that you hadn’t asked that, Belardo. You will go back to how you were before you started ingesting the toxins. Can you live with that?”

Lenny put his head to his chest. He took a breath before speaking. “I’m forty-seven now. I’ve been drinking and smoking in the same way since I was nineteen. I think of how I was before that time. I was a young seminarian who was not quite successful with anything, actually. I was a scared young kid, who didn’t know which end was up. If Cardinal Spencer had not taken me under his wing, I would never even have gotten to the priesthood. Nobody paid any attention to me. Nobody listened to me. Nobody even noticed me. I experimented with different medications, drugs, mood enhancers, but nothing worked except those Cola Smokers. I stood a chance of being who I wanted to be for the first time. To let that go and just be ordinary, I can’t live like that, Greg.”

Greg opened a bottle of water and handed it to Lenny. “You know, Belardo, I guess that I don’t have to tell you this, but people are idiots and you’ve already done all that you could to make yourself the rock star, kick ass pope that you are. I mean, think about it: What did Elvis do after the big Hawaiian bash in ‘73? He vegged out for four years, doing absolutely nothing but eating peanut butter and banana sandwiches, but nobody cared, because people are idiots, just like I said. If you choose to step down now, nobody would think any less of you, and tell me why, Belardo.”

Lenny smiled. “People are idiots.”

Greg smiled. “Now you get it, Belardo. So why don’t you quit the Pope business, vanish into obscurity, get laid, for God’s sake. Enjoy yourself, man! Let someone else deal with the pedophiles and the creepy nuns with the rulers. You have nothing to prove to these idiots!”

Lenny started to speak and then stopped. When he finally did respond, his voice took on a different tone of voice. “You almost have me convinced, believe it or not. I just have one question for you: If you were in my position, what would you do now?”

Greg ran his fingers through his hair. He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders in defeat. “I have nothing to say to you, Belardo.”

Lenny smiled simply. “You say that if I continue in the way that I’m going, I could have another six months left, right?”

Greg shook his head. “You’re more of an idiot than they are.”

Lenny wrinkled his brow mischievously. “Hmm, if I’m going to be intent on destroying myself, I guess that I’ll need a really twisted and crazy doctor to help me enable my addiction, and make sure that when I do go down, it’ll be with a bang. Do you know anybody who’s up for the job, Greg?”

Greg sat down on the foot of Lenny’s bed. “I suppose that I’m not in a particular rush to get anywhere, not for the rest of my life anyway. So, yeah, I guess that I could hang out with you and your cool friends for a bit of a stretch.”

Lenny winked. “Something tells me that this could be the start of a beautifully, dysfunctional friendship.”

Greg clinked water bottles together with Lenny. “That’s the kind that I do best, Belardo.”

They toasted each other and then drank.

　

THE END

 

 


End file.
